Chapter 2

When I got home from work, a video notification suddenly popped up.

The title was written in inflammatory fonts: "Making minimum wage and being forced by my boss to attend a $30,000-per-person team-building trip—would you want this 'blessing'?"

The thumbnail showed Dylan's face, written all over with forced compliance.

My heart dropped. I clicked on the video.

It opened with promotional footage of the six-star Maldives hotel, except it was edited into depressing black-and-white with sad music.

Text appeared: "The boss's promise looks pretty good, right?"

The scene cut to Dylan's workstation, zooming in on an ordinary spreadsheet.

More text followed: "Too bad I'm just a working person who wants to go home after work."

Then came a close-up of him looking tearful, with text reading: "Being told I have to sacrifice my precious personal weekends to participate in mandatory social performance—thanks but no thanks."

He'd cleverly twisted "additional paid vacation" into "sacrificing weekends."

Finally, he addressed the camera directly: "I don't want your Maldives. I just want to sleep in on weekends. Whoever wants this 'blessing' can have it."

The comment section predictably exploded.

"This is how young people should be! Drop the company name and we'll blast them for you!"

"I hate bosses like this—so self-congratulatory! Get it through your head: my job is just to work. I have no obligation to attend team-building."

"You said it! Who wants team-building when you're socially anxious? Give me back my rest time!"

I was shaking with anger.

Three days of paid vacation became "sacrificing precious weekends."

A $30,000 premium reward trip became "kidnapping."

The next morning, the office atmosphere felt wrong.

Several employees gathered around Dylan, saying "you're so bold" with their mouths while their faces showed the excitement of watching drama unfold.

Veteran employee Ryan went even further, directly bringing Dylan into my office.

Ryan opened with fake concern the moment he entered.

"Xavier, don't be angry. Dylan's approach was extreme, sure, but he really did voice what a lot of young people are thinking. Why don't you just go with popular opinion?"

Dylan stood beside him with his arms crossed, looking completely fearless.

He waved his phone: "Xavier, see that? This is what people want. It's the trend of the times."

I said flatly: "The company's traditions and policies won't change because of anyone's unreasonable tantrum."

Dylan snorted. "Tradition? Traditions exist to be broken. If you don't figure out how to satisfy everyone, I can't guarantee this won't hit national trending topics tomorrow."

As soon as he finished speaking, my assistant rushed in, face pale.

"Xavier, we have a problem. Dylan's video has gone viral!"

I refreshed my phone. Sure enough.

What chilled me even more were several anonymous comments under the video, with locations showing they were from inside our office building.

"Tell me about it. They call it a luxury trip, but last year's hotel was smaller than my bathroom."

"Benefits? Yeah right. They say $30,000 budget, but that dump was worth maybe $300 if we're lucky."

These lies made my head spin.

They wanted the company's luxury benefits while also pushing the risk onto the intern, fantasizing that if things got big enough, they could convert the trip into cash.

This refined, greedy self-interest pierced through years of my goodwill.

Looking at these two smug people in front of me, I suddenly felt it was all pointless.

I loosened my top collar button, my Adam's apple moving as if suppressing some emotion. Dylan remained oblivious, still tilting his head scrolling through his phone, his heel tapping the floor as he spun slightly in the chair—the posture of a victor.